


contemplatio.

by herrscher



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Second person POV, also i KNOW the games use he/him in regards to grima but it/its feels better, anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk, bc character tag doesnt specify, i take no ownership over this, my brain forced this concept into me, robin is F!MU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herrscher/pseuds/herrscher
Summary: “why?” you ask the dragon, with as little malintent as you can – it has destroyed timelines, worlds, could easily destroy your existence if it wished were its form not tethered to your own, and yet you ask. “what pleasure in this do you find?”grima is silent, for once. no rebuttal. and you consider echoing your words for a moment.





	contemplatio.

it’s uncommon for it to not respond, if not only in an agitated manner. your consciousness was not meant to reside alongside grima’s, you think; it isn’t as though such an act – putting a god into a human vessel – is something which the grimleal, which your father, could have experimented with to the point of knowing the plausible outcomes. just the thought of validar puts a bad taste in your mouth, and grima senses your disgust more than anything – but it knows it is not directed at it itself.

were you in control of your body, you suppose now would be a time when you would bite the inside of your cheek, idly twirl a piece of hair around one of your fingers nervously. the silence is something which you are accustomed to when it comes to your newfound coinhabitance with grima, but at the same time, the root cause of the silence itself is more than likely the reason it raises your anxiety as much as it does.

“you don’t seem to be asking for your own benefit,” it speaks a moment later, in a voice like yours yet different. echoes accompany its speech, and the sound that rings with each syllable almost hurts your ears to hear, yet you strain yourself to listen regardless. “why are you asking, human?”

it’s almost impersonal, the way the word falls off of its lips, yet you will yourself to not care about the meaning behind it. you’re certain that grima has reason for its feelings, for its need to view humans as lesser than itself, but such hypothesis is for a different time than now.

“you don’t seem willing.” you mull over your words for a moment, two, three, before you have to continue when you feel nonexistent eyes bore into the back of your head. “you don’t seem interested in what... the wills of the grimleal are. with what they wish of you, your power or otherwise.”

“humans are fickle beings.” the response is almost instantaneous, and you sense a kind of pain behind the words, only growing stronger as grima continues – you feel a prick of pain; grima had taken to digging your nails into your palms in a display of frustration, or... discomfort? you cannot place which one it is, but the effect is the same. “they wish for things from those who will give them what they want, but when those wishes are fulfilled, they will just as easily throw their ‘gods’ to the wayside. the wishes of these ‘grimleal’ are just the same.”

you almost start to respond when grima loosens your hand, nailmarks pressed and visible on your skin. it looks down at your hand and seems almost contemplative with its next words. “i only have importance as long as, to them, i have a role which to fulfill. as long as i act in line with their expectations. they know not what i am, truly, other than that which can destroy. ... just as it was with him.”

‘him’. you aren’t sure what exactly grima means until you notice its gaze transfixed upon your hand, the mark which sits upon the back of it. it almost looks disgusted that it’s there. you take a moment, have to put two and two together to understand. marks of dragons are passed down through holy blood. chrom and lucina, with the mark of naga through an ancestor’s pact. and you and your mark of grima...

is that what it means?

“i’m sorry,” you choke out, although you feel like you might vomit, “if it is my family which has forced you into this expectation of what you must do.” 'i feel i can relate too well,' you would say. you know it can hear you regardless of if the words are vocalized or not. “to have your self reduced to one purpose. i...”

“this is what they had created you for, is it not, human?” created. yes, that’s what it is, isn’t it? your birth was not one of joy or of desire, but one of purpose. you had a reason. to be a vessel for the fell dragon. the thought itself is disgusting to you, revolting to its core. you’ve bore two children. you cannot imagine reducing either of them to a puppet for a god to use as a home for its essence.

“... is that what happened to you?” you’re almost quiet, as though you don’t wish to imply what you have. “did my ancestor bring you into existence – create you – only to wish you to conform to their wishes? is that why you have grown so intolerant of humanity?”

“foolish child. do you think i am the benefactor of only your kin? that my animosity is borne only of your blood?” the words burn. you didn’t mean to imply such a thing, but... “however, i will provide the answer to your first question. yes.”

you fall silent with that. you don’t know how exactly to respond, nor are you sure what type of a response would be befitting of the situation, but...  
“... i know what it feels like. i’m sorry that you’ve been hurt that badly.”

it seems almost as though grima tries to act as though it is unfazed by it, but it’s obvious the discussion has hit a somewhat weak spot for the dragon.  
you leave grima be for a while after that. your own brain is wracked for concepts and explanation alike, and you aren’t sure if you would be able to make heads or tails of any of it, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. but...

it feels as though you’ve, even if only slightly, gotten to understand grima a bit better. even if you can’t forgive its actions...

at least you have a better knowledge of it. even if you’d rather not think about it, you fall back into slumber wondering if, in another time and another life, you would have had a fraction of the animosity grima harbors were your memory intact.

**Author's Note:**

> i may write more i might not tell me what you think in the comments if you want


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